


Return to Mystacor

by Friendlylycanthrope



Series: Let's Talk About It [27]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Catra Redemption, Catra grafities a certain statue, F/F, Grieving, Poly Relationship, This one goes out to my pal Rottenwraith!, catra gets a sweater, dealing with complicated feelings from her death, hot springs!, moving on from Shadow Weaver, recovering from abuse, she loves it but she wont admit it, then we go back to Mystacor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:53:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24830377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Friendlylycanthrope/pseuds/Friendlylycanthrope
Summary: With everything that's been going on setting up the refugees from the Fright Zone, they haven't really had time to get into their feelings about their abusive parent figure biting it. But now, things are starting to slow down a bit, and those feelings are coming up. whether they want them to or not. Glimmer, Catra, and Adora are all keeping something to themself each that is going to come out soon.
Relationships: Adora/Catra/Glimmer (She-Ra)
Series: Let's Talk About It [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714624
Comments: 4
Kudos: 73





	Return to Mystacor

**Author's Note:**

> This one is dedicated to my pall wraith, for always giving me great analysis and criticism in a respectful way, always able to give me ideas, see how it is received, and appreciate the bigger scope of this project. Ride or die. 
> 
> In terms of this work, I'm hoping to go for a "tales of BA Sing Se" vibe by doing each character one at a time.

  
  


**Adora**

  
  
  


Shadow Weaver was dead. Catra had made sure of it herself. If she hadn’t, if she didn’t see the body with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed anyone else that might have told her. 

She was gone, for good. 

At first, it was relieving, to her and Adora and their girlfriend Glimmer. Finally, they could be free. They would no longer have to worry about her dark magic hunting them down, spying on them, or capturing and torturing them. With Shadow Weaver gone, all three of them could breath a little bit easier. 

But in the following weeks after the Immigration, that relief slowly changed like an apple slice browning in the air. It became something more uncomfortable. 

They were on edge again, as though she were still alive. None of them talked about it. Whatever conflicted feelings they were feeling about the dark witch, they kept to themselves. 

It was Angella who caught on first. She was the first to reach out, when she found Adora in the garden in the middle of the night. Adora always loved the gardens, ever since she defected. It was so unlike anything he had ever experienced in the Fright Zone. But this was the first time she had spotted the soldier sitting in her usual spot in the garden in the middle of the night. At this hour, the garden was alive with crickets and the occasional cries of bats. She could vaguely make out the moon’s glow in the water at the pond.

At first, she wasn’t sure if it would even help if she tried to talk to Adora; even after all these years she still regarded Angella outwardly as a superior officer, regardless of her attachments within. But Angella couldn’t face the alternative, which was to do nothing. She wanted so badly to help Adora after everything she had been through, to help her heal and have the childhood that was robbed of her by---

And then Angella realized what might be on Adora’s mind, and a hand went to the phantom of pain within her heart. 

She stepped out of the castle and into the enclosure of Bright Moon’s magnificent gardens. She cleared her throat to announce her arrival to Adora, who spun her head. Adora instantly stood up and saluted.

“Oh, your Majesty!” She said softly, apparently embarrassed at having been caught out of bed at this late hour. Angella waved for her to be at ease as she joined Adora.

“Adora.” She greeted calmly, trying to smile softly. “May I ask what has you up so late at night?”

Adora looked away uncomfortably, scuffed her boot on the dirt path. She put one hand on the back of her neck and the other deep in her pocket. 

“I couldn’t sleep.” She lied unconvincingly. But Angella didn’t feel like interrogating her, so she sat down on a bench that overlooked the fountain and reflecting pool. She gestured for Adora to sit with her, which she obediently did. 

“I understand.” She said. “These are interesting times. It seems as though the whole world is changing around us.”

Adora nodded in understanding while she nervously tapped her foot, making no sound on the grass beneath her. She waited for Adora to say something, but she did not. 

“Is there something troubling on your mind?” She asked with more concern. Adora took a deep breath and held it for a moment before releasing it. 

“A lot.” She answered eventually. “Like, my whole life has been on my mind. Ever since...” She cut herself off. 

Now it was Angella’s turn to nod in thought. She leaned forward and put her elbows on her knees, hands clasped together in a posture highly unusual for the Queen. 

“I see.” She said, encouraging Adora. It wasn’t uncommon to find Adora here and let her speak freely of her life in the horde. In the years since she had defected Angella and Glimmer had learned much about how child soldiers were raised there. It was part of the comfort of the garden to Adora, her favorite place in the castle, where she could just let her worries out. 

“I imagine one facet in particular?” Angella prompted. A lump rose in Adora’s throat that she couldn’t swallow down. Instead she just nodded, then brought her feet up on the bench and hugged her knees as though trying to make herself smaller. Even after everything, the idea of Shadow Weaver still scared her. 

“At first I was so relieved that she was gone.” Adora started quietly, staring at nothing. “But it’s kind of sinking in for me that this is  _ forever _ . I’ll never see her again. Never get to speak my mind to her. Never prove her wrong. Never get those memories back.”

Angella picked her words carefully, making sure to give Adora enough time to say anything else before she spoke up. 

“You know, she hurt Micah too.” She eventually said. Adora looked up surprised. “She used him to gain power for herself when he was young... He was lucky to escape with his life, but it haunted him the rest of his days.”

Adora looked down sadly at the reminder of King Micah and his demise. She felt somehow responsible, guilty even. The person she was mourning had caused heartache for the people that she cared about. She felt the weight of Micah’s death on her own shoulders as though she was responsible all of a sudden. 

“There are times where I wish I could have faced her, to make her answer for her crimes and pay for what she did.” Angella continued. Even the thought of any opportunity to teach Shadow Weaver a lesson made her hands tingle lightly with magic wanting to burst out. “But some regrets are worth carrying. If it means we can move on from the pain.” she looked over at Adora and found that the young woman was looking up at her with big wide eyes and wearing a frown like a kicked puppy. Adora looked away just as fast. 

“I should hate her.” Adora mumbled. “I  _ do _ hate her.” She amended. “But now that she’s really gone... All I can think of is how I wish I could have spoken to her one last time. Or I remember all the good things she did like teaching me how to read and getting me an extra ration bar for my DOB exams. Or I end up wondering if I should have given her another chance.” She shook her head and paused. “It’s all so confusing. I hated her for a long time for everything she did to us, and the more I learned the easier it became to hate her. But... she still raised me. And Catra. And... I miss her. Which is stupid! Because I  _ know _ that she never really cared and I  _ know _ that she was just using me but...” She sniffled and shook a bit with the effort of holding back her tears, unable to continue. Angella wanted desperately to reach out and comfort her, to wrap her in her arms and let her cry, to enclose her wings around the poor child. But she withheld, knowing that Adora would flinch from any sudden show of affection. She had to be more patient.

“You are allowed to miss someone, even if they mistreated you.” Angella eventually said. Adora was still stuck in a tense ball, trying not to cry. “You can still miss the good parts of a bad thing. It doesn’t make you a fool for their deception, it only means that you were, remarkably, able to find the shred of goodness in someone despite all the bad. It’s alright to empathize with that goodness, to miss it. You are allowed to miss her.” She soothed. 

At that, the floodgates that Adora was using all her strength to fight flung open and she fell apart into sobs that wracked her body. Angella swooped in without hesitation to slowly come around and hug her. 

She remembered the first few weeks that Adora had come to live in Bright Moon. She recalled Adora fearing that Angella would hurt her, expecting it even, all because of Shadow Weaver. On that morning, they were in the garden when Adora unexpectedly broke down into sobs in the Queen’s arms, unsure how to function in a place that valued and respected her. On that morning, Renee Abner had offered her some books on parenting, pointing out how she had accidentally adopted Adora, and Agnella rolled her eyes and blushed. She loved Adora like another daughter, and over the years that love only grew stronger. It was what drove most of her hatred towards Shadow Weaver. She would never forgive what she had done to Adora, and Catra too. But for now, all that there was to do was to hold the young woman’s shaking body in her arms while she mourned. She rested her cheek on top of Adora’s head patiently, gently stroking her hair, her own heart breaking with every pain that Adora had to suffer. 

“You will change the way you feel about her in the future many times.” She said soothingly. “You may hate her, you may mourn her, you may fear her or miss her, it doesn’t matter. There is no right or wrong way to feel. But it doesn’t make you a fool. You have such a great big heart, Adora. Not even Shadow Weaver could change that.” 

She held onto Adora tight, as though afraid she would float away, and stretched one translucent wing over her protectively. By the time Adora started to calm down, she felt weak all over from the exhaustion of her grief. She still leaned into Angella’s side, hiccuping away her small choked sobs while Angella held her. She could not remember a time that Shadow Weaver had held her while she cried. She knew that Angella meant safety, both physically and emotionally. She trusted her Queen better than she ever trusted the figure she might have once called a mother. 

She knew that Angella was protective over her. She may have been dense but she knew that the Queen wanted for Adora to be safe and happy. At first it was suspicious. She wondered what Angella had to gain from it, what she wanted from her in exchange. But that wasn’t how mothers were, outside of the Fright Zone. She just wanted to protect Adora from all the things that nobody had ever protected her from before. And after some time Adora found comfort here, in the arms of someone who would let her cry over someone that had been nothing but cold and cruel to her. She was okay with letting Angella into her life if it meant feeling this soft. This was what her mother should have been to her. 

Her exhaustion from the taxing emotional effort of her breakdown eventually came and caught up to her. As her quiet hiccups faded, she began drifting off to sleep. Angella held her as she nodded off, wondering if she should say anything more, if she _ could _ say anything that might soothe her. Her face was wet with tears, and she curled up on herself in the fetal position against the coolness of the night air. She used her wings to protect her from the wind, but otherwise kept still in fear of waking her. 

She didn’t move until she was positive that Adora was deeply asleep.  _ Thank goodness _ She thought, remembering that Adora had reported trouble sleeping when they met up here. She maneuvered herself carefully in order to lift Adora up and carry her, one arm under her back and one under her knees. It had been a long time since Angella had to do any sort of heavy lifting work, and she wished that her husband were here to help. Micah would have loved Adora to bits. She fantasized about how well they would get along if they had met while she delivered Adora up to her room, and put her in bed next to Catra and Glimmer, both sound asleep on their ground level bed that they all shared. She snuggled into their familiar warmth and scent in her sleep with a smile, and Angella knew that she would be alright. She had all the love she needed. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Catra**

  
  
  


It was Angella who suggested that they take the trip to Mystacore. Glimmer and Adora had been there before, and seemed happy to go, and who was Catra to keep them from being happy. 

Catra was familiar with the master sorceress, but not with the young magicat she was with when they arrived. She seemed to be about their age, perhaps a bit younger. She was tall, and a bit heavy set with light ashy gray fur and darker hair that much resembled Catra’s when it was longest, falling around her shoulders messily. She wore loose robes in earthy colors, tied around her body and giving the sense that she was a peaceful traveler. 

“Ah my favorite niece!” Castaspella opened her arms up wide for a hug, which Glimmer neither returned nor fought away from. “And Catra and Adora, so good to see you again!” She greeted them after releasing Glimmer. “I hope you two are taking good care of my Glimmer!”

Adora blushed and rubbed her neck awkwardly, so Catra answered as she crossed her arms with a smirk. 

“Oh she’s more than capable of taking care of herself.” She teased. 

“Adora I have been dying to ask you,” Castaspella continued. “When Shadow Weaver finally kicked the bucket, did your memories return?”

Suddenly Adora’s expression changed to frightful and sad at the memory of her caretaker, and Glimmer noticed how she shrank in on herself. She quickly changed the subject. 

“Aunt Casta, who is this?” She indicated in reference to the magicat.

“Oh goodness, where are my manners?” Castaspella quickly corrected herself. “Adora, Catra, Glimmer, please meet my apprentice, Jasmine. Jas, this is my niece Glimmer, and Catra and Adora.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” She said with a polite smile, shaking their hands. 

“What’s an apprentice?” Adora asked. 

“It means she is training to take over as master sorceress one day by learning everything from me.” Castaspella explained. “I’m not getting any younger. And she is already vastly gifted in magics.”

“I basically follow her everywhere she goes, do tasks and errands for her, and learn more about the duties and higher level magic skills.” Jasmine explained. “Speaking of which, Master Castaspella, you did ask me to remind you--”

“Oh!” Castaspella remembered suddenly. “That’s right, I finished your sweater, Catra!” 

With a twirl of her hand, she opened up a circle of storage magic, glowing powder blue. She reached inside and pulled out a folded bundle of red fabric, offering it to Catra. 

“I tried to keep your tastes in mind, do you like it?” She gushed eagerly. 

She unfolded and held it up to look at it. It was red on top, black on bottom, meeting in the middle in a zigzag like mountains. It was decorated with an array of small paw prints at regular intervals. It seemed huge to her, probably meant to be worn loosely. It even had a hood, and a front pocket. 

She loved it. 

“Cool,” She said, trying to hide how excited she was. She failed. 

She put it on right away, and it felt like a warm hug that still allowed her to move around. She felt heat rising in her face. Why would somebody do something this nice for her? 

“Aaw, you look so cute!” Adora giggled, beaming ear to ear at Catra in the sweater. Catra’s ears flipped downwards and her tail lashed around behind her, both in love of the new garment and embarrassment at the attention she was receiving. 

“Oh I’m so glad you like it!” Casta said. “Why don’t you all settle in, and then Jasmine can give you a tour while I make some dinner. It’s your first time, right Catra?”

“Aunt Cast, we were really hoping to relax on the beach, unwind a bit ever since the Immigration,” 

“Oh I  _ know _ dearest, so much hard work paid off! Surely you must be starving.” Casta dismissed. “I’ll be sure to plan a big victory feast!”

  
  


***

  
  


She couldn’t sleep. Maybe it was how much she had over eaten at dinner-- similar to Adora. Old habits of fearing that food could be taken away, even though they knew logically that it wouldn’t-- or maybe it was knowing that Shadow Weaver grew up here, learned magic and became evil within these same halls. Maybe it was knowing that Shadow Weaver was still able to infiltrate the most secure location in Etheria the first time Adora had come here. All the same, her thoughts kept returning to Her.

Glimmer and Adora were soundly sleeping when Catra threw on some sweats and went for a walk. Perhaps she could find some wood to whittle, clear her head. Razz had taught her much about whittling, including how to size up a branch for quality of wood before cutting it down. She really hoped there wasn’t a metaphor there. But, knowing Razz, it probably was. 

She walked the darkened halls of Mystacor in her new sweater, bare feet traveling silently along the cool ceramic tile. Her mind wandered away from her. She stopped looking for trees and branches, and starting ambling around, avoiding the thoughts that she had bottled up for several weeks. Ever since the Immigration. 

She looked through the hall of Sorcerers. Many great and towering statues of the greatest sorcerers of all time. In the tour, Catra hadn’t paid much attention. She looked at their faces now. 

There was Master Norwyn, a faun person with curled horns. He had perished at the hand of Shadow Weaver. Her first casualty after casting the spell of obtainment. 

Micah. The sculpture here offered more familiarity to his features than the minimalist style of the murals in Bright Moon. From what she had been told, he was a lot like Adora. Not too bright, big heart, loved a challenge or competition. She wondered what he would think of them if he were still there. Maybe he would threaten them for dating his daughter, something Bow tried to protectively do, but he loved them both too much to mean anything. 

Then there was Her. A blackened scar on the line of Sorcerers. Jasmine had explained that young mages like to practice their fireballs on her statue, both for the safety that they wouldn’t start a fire on the stone, and as a reminder to never forgive or forget what that witch had done. 

Catra wondered if people at Mystacore told stories about the evil witch with no face, hiding under the beds of naughty children and threatening to take them away, to keep their young in line. Shadow Weaver used to tell her ghost stories. But none were quite as scary as the ghost that tucked them in. She didn’t offer a hug and a kiss or a sweet goodnight. She instead turned out the lights and told them what would happen if she found any of the cadets out of bed. 

She didn’t want to remember her. She didn’t want to remember that part of her. She glared at the masked statue, as though she could read her expression like any other living person. 

“I’m not afraid of you.” She growled to the empty hall. She waited a full minute, as though waiting for some response. When none came, she only got angrier. Angry at herself for such a foolish thing, angry that she couldn’t hear what Shadow Weaver would have said back to her. 

“I don’t regret what I did.” She continued. “You deserved what you got.”

The silence of the hall echoed around her. The moonlight reflected in cool blue hues across the hall, particles of dust slowly swirling in the light. 

“You never apologized for any of the shit you did to me-- to  _ us _ . So why should I!” 

It took a long time and lots of hardship and healing for Catra to let go of her resentment for Adora and instead transfer it to Shadow Weaver. She was the only one to blame for what had happened between them. 

“You asked me to spare you so that I could ask you why, but I didn’t.” She continued bitterly. “I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because I don’t know what’s worse, not knowing or getting lied to. But that’s what most of my life was back then, wasn’t it? A lie.” She turned away from the stony cold eyes and paced angrily in front of the statue. 

“You just had to go around torturing a bunch of children for decades, cause that’s how small you are. You musta felt real powerful when you were electrocuting prepubescent children. How low do you have to be that that’s what you do with your life?” She glared angrily at the statue again, looking down uncaring at her from high. 

“Because I’ve been that low. I’ve tried to hurt other people because I was hurt. But you know what? I changed. That’s why I’m not you. You had every opportunity to change. But you just kept doing the easy thing and getting worse, didn’t you? I had  _ nothing. _ No career, no home, no aspirations. Partially thanks to  _ you. _ So I know what rock bottom is like, okay? And it still didn’t turn me into a monster like you. So you have no excuse. And I’m not sorry that I....” She choked. She hadn’t said the words. She hadn’t admitted it out loud yet. “I’m not sorry that I killed you.” She strained to say through a hoarse sound in her throat as she held back tears. She backed away until she hit the wall, then slid down to the floor. 

“I might not apologize for what I did. But I will make sure that I never become you. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to turn into you. Wicked and dark and twisted beyond recognition, hiding behind a mask.” Tears fell down her face but she didn’t let the sobs out. She was burning with fire in her chest. Her limbs shook but she had clarity for the words she wished she had thought to say sooner, to a living ear rather than a cold statue. 

“But no. That’s not me.” She resolved. “I’m going to fix all my mistakes. I’m going to learn how to be kind from the people who have no right to be forgiving me so easily. I’m going to be better than you ever were.”

There was a spark of hope in her chest, weighed down by guilt. They shouldn’t forgive her. But she would never stop working towards earning it anyway. 

She even fantasized about the future. She wanted to show  children people the kindness and love she was denied. The future scared her. She didn’t want to entertain any foolish daydreams of a perfect world. Some bright happy place where she can love and be loved and do parenting  _ right _ Just to prove her wrong. So she pushed away those thoughts. She knew that no matter what, she would be kind. Because she had changed. 

That night, Catra opted to sleep in the middle of their cuddle puddle. She needed to feel their warmth against her when her mind was haunted by cold stoney ghosts. And that night, she slept peacefully. 

But not before she vandalized the statue of Shadow Weaver with a stun baton to its stupid head and some crude remarks written on with a marker. 

Afterwards, she took off her sweater so she wouldn’t overheat in her fur between Adora and Glimmer. The two people who let her change, kept forgiving her, taught her how to be better. She sighed as she realized that she would never be done with Shadow Weaver haunting her. But she also wasn’t done loving these two princesses, and that made for a compelling argument against the nightmares. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Glimmer**

  
  
  


Glimmer knew everything about Shadow Weaver from one brief encounter in which she and Bow were kidnapped, but otherwise had a plethora of knowledge of her crimes from Adora and Catra. That’s why she jumped at the chance to go to Mystacor. She wanted to relax because all she felt when she thought about her was rage. 

She was downright furious. She was glad that the witch was dead. She just wasn’t sure about the effect it had on Adora and Catra. She needed to put her own rage aside because she felt she wasn’t allowed to be furious at Shadow Weaver when she was next to Adora and Catra, two people who were hurt in vastly different ways. She didn’t have the right to complain about Shadow Weaver or express any feelings she might have had about her death.

So, she imagined that Catra and Adora must have been going through... something. They had to be. 

It took a lot of convincing to get Catra to come along to the hot springs. She hated getting wet so much that she still came out of the shower half dry. But she didn’t want to be alone, so she joined Glimmer and Adora in the steaming waters of the grotto. 

Glimmer watched as Catra settled into the all encompassing warmth of the waters, saw her tight muscles relax as her fur became weightless. She relaxed into it with a sigh. 

“Pretty good, right?” Glimmer said smugly. Catra teasingly glared at her with a smile. 

“Well color me surprised.” Adora said. Catra wanted to glare at her in indignation of being seen as cute or losing to Glimmer about liking it, but instead she exhaled deeply as she sank in up to her shoulders. 

They relaxed for only about a minute as they adjusted to the heat of the water, breathing in the steam rising around them. Glimmer noticed Catra c upping the warm water in her hands and bringing it up to let it slowly trickle down. She played with it in quite curiosity, as though she had never been in a bath before. Glimmer smiled at the sight. 

“So,” Glimmer said calmly, looking between her two girlfriends. Adora looked like she was hoping to take a nap, while Catra examined the way the water moved her fur weightlessly. “I heard that someone defaced a statue in the hall of sorcerers last night.” She wasn’t upset. Just bringing it up a bit slyly. Adora looked at Catra, and Catra looked down at the water, becoming more guarded again. 

“Hm.” Catra hummed indifferently. “Wonder who did that.”

“I heard Shadow Weaver got crudely vandalized with some crass remarks in a marker.” Glimmer said. 

“Guess it’s a mystery.” Catra smirked. Glimmer chuckled and Adora gently splashed some water over at Catra. 

“Okay fine, things were said.” Catra relented. “Mainly by me. She wasn’t exactly chatty.”

“I would have done the same.” Adora said with a smile. “If I wasn’t terrified of Castaspella not liking me by vandalizing Mystacor property.” She propped her arms on the upper ring of the basin they sat in to hold herself up.

A moment of silence hung around them in the steam while their thoughts came to the witch. 

“How long has it been since the Immigration now?” Adora asked after a moment. She always had trouble remembering things, possibly as a side effect of her constant memory erasing and editing as a child. Dates slipped through her fingers at times. 

“It’s been eighteen days.” Catra said without even pausing to calculate. “Two weeks and four days.” She still didn’t lift her gaze from the surface of the water. 

“You guys... You haven’t really had a chance to... talk about. What happened. What it means.” Glimmer said. “Even though she was evil. Even if it’s hate, you should feel something about her now that she’s gone. You're allowed to be affected by it.”

Adora pulled her arms in and closed in on herself a bit, making herself smaller. It was a habit from her childhood, growing up abused, to make herself take up less space so as not to provoke any inconvenience just from her existence. 

“Well, I-I did talk to Angella about it...” She said meekly. Catra looked up at her curiously. It was news to Glimmer as well. “It helped...” She admit, growing uncomfortable having the full attention on her. Usually her discomfort led to nervous rambling. “I do hate her, but I still feel guilty.”

“Guilty?” Glimmer asked. 

“Why?” Catra asked at the same time. 

“Because, now that she’s really  _ gone _ , I--all I can remember is the good stuff. And I shouldn’t forget the bad stuff. I don’t want to forget. But I miss the good things. And it’s almost making me miss her when I  _ know  _ I shouldn’t, and I don’t! But...” She stammered and had difficulty finding the right words. She put her head in one hand in frustration. Catra quickly tried to think of a way to divert the conversation in order to spare Adora. 

“I’m terrified that I’m going to turn into her.” Catra blurted out. The other two looked at her shocked. 

“What? Catra, that’s--” 

“I know, I know.” Catra cut off Adora. “I know that she did a lot of shit most sane people wouldn’t. But I realized that what I did, how I ended it? It was cold. And paired with the fact that... I’m not sorry about it. I would do it again. What kind of cruel person does that make me?” She hugged her own arms as she began to spiral down the same dark thoughts from the night prior. “She never thought that what she did was wrong. She told me that, more than once. What if I start to go dark? I might think it's the right thing to do but--”

“The difference between you and Shadow Weaver is that you have us.” Glimmer comforted, leaning forward. The water made gentle waves with her movement. 

“We’re here to help you. And we can make sure you don’t do anything you would regret.” Adora said, reaching over to Catra. Then it seemed to be Glimmer’s turn to confess. 

“I’ve just been... so confused, about how to feel.” She said softly. “I’m mainly livid. I hate her and what she did. But it also seems like such a strong feeling for someone that I hardly ever met in person. But I feel like, I’m not allowed to feel anything about it that would need talking about when I’m next to you two cause how does that even compare! She treated you horribly, I have no right to complain.”

“She  _ did _ hold you prisoner and torture you.” Catra pointed out, referring to their prom in the Kingdom of Snows. “You have every right to hate her.”

“Besides, we’re supposed to take care of you just as much as you take care of us.” Adora added. She took Glimmer’s hand on one side and Catra’s on the other. “Shadow Weaver hurt a lot of people. Nobody has the right to claim those feelings.”

“I think we can all agree on one thing.” Glimmer sniffled, becoming emotional under all the confessions that they just went though. “Things are going to be better now.” She took Catra’s hand with her free hand, so all three of them were linked. “Together.” She vowed.

“We might not be over what happened but,” Catra said, taking a pause, “I think we’ll come out okay.”

“We’re already doing better.” Adora agreed with a smile. 

  
  


***

  
  


“Master Castaspella?” Jasmine peeked her head into the office with her ears pointed. 

“Yes, dear?” Castaspella asked cheerily, inviting the young magicat in. 

“Pardon me if I’m out of line, ma’am.” She said nervously. “But may I ask; what was that vial you had me drop into the steam grotto? Is it essential to its maintenance?”

Castaspella laughed hard for a moment. Then she sat in her chair as though to resume her work.

“Just the essence of honesty.” She explained grandly. Jasmine seemed confused. “It is an easy potion to mix, I have lots of it lying around. It makes for the most  _ fun _ tea parties with my sister in law!”

“But, why?” She asked. Castaspella sighed as though lost in a memory. 

“To find out who it was that defaced that old statue last night... So that I can make them a cake.” She laughed again. “But honestly? Starting an honest conversation can be hard... don’t worry, the steam’s effect will only affect them for a few minutes at most. They needed this.”

“Are you always this sneaky when you help people?” Jasmine smiled with a hand on her hip. Castaspella laughed once again. 

“Only when the people that I’m helping are three stubborn young women who I know very well.” She whispered conspiratorially. “Stubborn young women who will grow to become incredibly capable leaders.” She added, as though she were trying not to offend them if they were within earshot. They weren’t, but it was still true. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> After this, some real shit gon go down. REAL shit. stay tuned. Please comment with your thoughts. I refresh it a hundred times a day, I love hearing your thoughts.


End file.
